I haven't posted in a while, sorry guys, I have been busy with work and school.... but luckily I am on break, since the 18th! I have been writing and reviewing a lot of stuff on Figment as well ^_^
Anyways, I can't believe The Walking Dead isn't coming back on till February 10th!!!! Too long to wait dudes.
Also, I want to go to Comicon next year.. March 2013, who else does?!?!?!?!? I can't wait to go, if I can! There are so many people I know that will be there!!!! I feel like such a nerd, but that's because I am one, which I love <3 Who else is a nerd?
http://www.emeraldcitycomicon.com/
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Virus
Here is a poem my friend wrote a while ago... it is really awesome! (She had it all in one paragraph, but to make it easier to read, I just split up the sentences.)
It spreads to every corner of your body.
Every limb feels heavy with it, your brain processes slow, your mouth goes dry, and nausea churns in your stomach.
Sensors go into under-drive, and over-drive, simultaneously.
Things jumble in your mind, and nothing is easy to understand.
It spreads to every corner of your body.
You find it hard to breathe, you force your chest to rise and fall with large gulps of air, hoping they will steady you.
Every movement of the world around you startles you out of this painful reverie, but only for a second.
Back and forth, back and forth, between awake and unconscious.
Your blood feels like molasses in your veins.
And when you force yourself to breathe, the breath spreads out like the virus, through your blood to your hair follicles, your fingertips, your Achilles tendons.
It burns like fire as it fights, feels like a million million little stabbing knives, fighting, struggling against the virus.
But still the virus holds you down, constricting your throat, tying your stomach in sickening knots.
It holds you down, deadening you, suffocating you.
The virus hurts in its deadness, and tears come to your eyes.
This is how the virus works.
This is how panic kills.
It spreads to every corner of your body.
Every limb feels heavy with it, your brain processes slow, your mouth goes dry, and nausea churns in your stomach.
Sensors go into under-drive, and over-drive, simultaneously.
Things jumble in your mind, and nothing is easy to understand.
It spreads to every corner of your body.
You find it hard to breathe, you force your chest to rise and fall with large gulps of air, hoping they will steady you.
Every movement of the world around you startles you out of this painful reverie, but only for a second.
Back and forth, back and forth, between awake and unconscious.
Your blood feels like molasses in your veins.
And when you force yourself to breathe, the breath spreads out like the virus, through your blood to your hair follicles, your fingertips, your Achilles tendons.
It burns like fire as it fights, feels like a million million little stabbing knives, fighting, struggling against the virus.
But still the virus holds you down, constricting your throat, tying your stomach in sickening knots.
It holds you down, deadening you, suffocating you.
The virus hurts in its deadness, and tears come to your eyes.
This is how the virus works.
This is how panic kills.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Zombie Movies
Which zombie movie/s are you most looking towards?!?
I think I am most looking forward to World War Z ^____^
I think I am most looking forward to World War Z ^____^
Poem
Here is one!
The zombies are most anxious about the graveyard
Before midnight arises, for they make the
Most petrifying of wails and screams.
Sounding as if they are being boiled alive
In their own ghastliness, of their slimy and
Putrid green skin.
They dare not gander about the graveyard
Before the dead of night arises, for they
Will be engulfed by the sunlight which
Sweeps across the grave stones,
Standing like forgotten and mysterious
Relics.
They are tremendously afraid of the sunlight,
For it completely obliterates them; causing their skins
To melt ferociously under
The searing heat of the sun,
And their bows to spew out disgusting
And putrid mucus.
When the crow squawks upon the Oak
Tree in the grave yard, the Zombies
Are wise to know that the dead of night
Has come to being.
They ferociously slash their coffins
To pieces and begin to come forth from their graves.
The shadows of the zombies spill vengeance and evil
Upon the grave yard, as they come forth from
Their graves.
The zombies are most anxious about the graveyard
Before midnight arises, for they make the
Most petrifying of wails and screams.
Sounding as if they are being boiled alive
In their own ghastliness, of their slimy and
Putrid green skin.
They dare not gander about the graveyard
Before the dead of night arises, for they
Will be engulfed by the sunlight which
Sweeps across the grave stones,
Standing like forgotten and mysterious
Relics.
They are tremendously afraid of the sunlight,
For it completely obliterates them; causing their skins
To melt ferociously under
The searing heat of the sun,
And their bows to spew out disgusting
And putrid mucus.
When the crow squawks upon the Oak
Tree in the grave yard, the Zombies
Are wise to know that the dead of night
Has come to being.
They ferociously slash their coffins
To pieces and begin to come forth from their graves.
The shadows of the zombies spill vengeance and evil
Upon the grave yard, as they come forth from
Their graves.
Poem
This is poem #4 or #5 I believe.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/infection-6/
Not exactly a zombie poem, but could be taken as one.
burned up pictures and hot painful thoughts
instead of my brain it's my heart that rots
bacteria fester and infections abound
I try to scream but no one can hear a sound
I tell myself it's going to be okay
I tell myself it's going to be fine
but i spend my today obsessing over tomorrow
happiness smothered by aching tons of sorrow
they're building up and strangling me
the tears of mine that others cannot see
things run together like a river with no rocks
colors blend and the resulting black mocks
mocks my sorrow and turns it bright
and that sick way is how I see the light.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/infection-6/
Not exactly a zombie poem, but could be taken as one.
burned up pictures and hot painful thoughts
instead of my brain it's my heart that rots
bacteria fester and infections abound
I try to scream but no one can hear a sound
I tell myself it's going to be okay
I tell myself it's going to be fine
but i spend my today obsessing over tomorrow
happiness smothered by aching tons of sorrow
they're building up and strangling me
the tears of mine that others cannot see
things run together like a river with no rocks
colors blend and the resulting black mocks
mocks my sorrow and turns it bright
and that sick way is how I see the light.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Shaun of the Dead
Shaun of the Dead is an awesome movie!!!! I would share some of the quotes, but most of the funny ones have swearing in them, so I won't.... but here is a cool picture!
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Zombie Poem #4
The
table was set
The
candles aglow;
When
at the front door
Three
zombies did show.
“Who
could that be knocking?”
Poor
Mother did pout.
“Probably
Mindy’s boyfriend,”
My
Father did shout.
“I’ll
see who it is,”
I
said to them all.
As
I skittered and shimmied
To
see who did call.
The
door it did open
My
heart it did shudder;
My
legs felt just like
A
bowl of whipped butter.
“Brains!”
said one zombie
“Your Brains!” said another;
“It’s
turkey or nothing,”
Blared
my big, nosy mother.
I
held my breath tight
As
they studied my skull;
Then
each rolled an eye
To
find it… quite dull.
I
felt almost rejected
As
they brushed me aside;
And
toward our Thanksgiving table
Each
zombie did stride.
The
zombies they shuffled
Straight
up to the bird;
They
left quite a smell
Like
a three-week old turd!
They
reached out their hands
To
tear off a leg;
Mom
said, “Sit down you three;
And
don’t make me beg!”
I
figured they’d tear her
One
limb from another;
But
those zombies seemed –
Quite
scared of… my mother!
In
no time they listened
In
no time they sat;
And
wore napkins in their collars
In
two seconds flat!
My
family sat watching
The
zombies devour;
A
20-pound turkey
In
less than an hour.
They
gnawed on the wishbone
And
guzzled down gravy;
Their
behavior was almost
Well…
downright… behave-y!
Mom
smiled and cheered
As
they refilled each plate;
It
didn’t seem to bother her
That
none of us ate.
And
when there was nothing
To
swallow or chew;
The
zombies looked happy
Or
at least, far less… eeeewwwww!
My
family sat frozen
Quite
glued to our seats;
Until
Zombie One burped
And
sputtered, “Good eats!”
They
rose without speaking
As
we covered our brains;
They
turned and shuffled out
Leaving
only grease stains.
I
stood at the door
To
see where they’d gone;
And
watched three stuffed zombies
Shuffle
down our front lawn.
“It
sure looks to me,”
I
said with a tweet.
“Like
they’re going away;
Like
they’re crossing the street!”
“Now
that they’re gone,”
Mom
said with a grin.
“Our
real Thanksgiving dinner
Can
finally begin!”
Dad
helped clear the table
Sis
set it again;
As
I asked Mom about
Her
backup turkey plan.
“Why
everyone knows,”
She
grinned from ear to ear;
“To
cook a second Thanksgiving dinner
When
zombies are near!”
Here is a zombie poem I found that has to do with Thanksgiving, Happy Thanksgiving guys!! ^___^
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